Belief in the Absence of Proof
by Your Pilgrim Soul
Summary: This story starts in 1920 when a woman wakes alone in the woods. We follow a group of vampires, some wolves and a human over 100 years as they seek out their destiny. Eventually JxB but it'll take a while!
1. Chapter 1

_**I strongly suspect that nobody will ever read this, but here goes...**_

_**This is my very first attempt at this sort of writing, but I had this little story idea in my head and thought "what the hell?"**_

_**I love the general idea of Twilight, but the endless vampire-self-loathing, human-self-loathing and general moralising wore a little thin with me - sorry! My vampires are going to be predominantly OK with the whole thing and will behave accordingly for the most part. And my Bella will not be so...you know...Bella-ish.**_

_**Most of the main characters will be in this story to some extent, but not in the usual groupings or couples. Also, everybody will be a bit older - I'm too old to spend my time writing about 17 year old virgins.**_

_**I've rewritten this chapter lots of times from various perspectives. I want to avoid jumping to different POV's. Please let me know if it reads a little weird. Please let me know if you like it. Also let me know if it's complete crap :)**_

_**The first few chapters will introduce the main characters and will be quite short.**_

**_******I do not own Twilight or any of its characters..I make no money from this...I do not intend any copyright infringement...etc...******_**

_**The story starts in 1920...**_

**BELIEF IN THE ABSENCE OF PROOF**

**CHAPTER 1: THE SEER (November, 1920)**

She held her limbs rigid. Despite the cold wind that roared through the forest and buffeted her body, there was no relief from the lava that coursed through her veins.

Her mind ran at a million miles an hour, but was still working through her memories more slowly than they were torn from her. She was a shell: her mind no longer held her past securely and her body was surely charcoal. She knew that the wind would scatter her ashes. Dust to dust.

She prayed to God to make it stop. But she knew that she no longer believed – that there was no God in this place.

There was a moment – an instant in time – where all knowledge of herself was ripped away and she felt that she was a blank slate: a Godless, nameless, charcoal shell. But she was also freed from the now-inexplicable self doubt that she knew had filled her just a heartbeat earlier. She could no longer feel it and could no longer recall the experiences that had forged it, but she felt its absence. She did not miss it.

The woman lay burning for an eternity – unmoving until her chest was lifted from the ground with a rolling movement normally reserved for moments of passion, but this time a response to the lava that had taken hold of her heart. The muscle gave one final, thundering beat and was still. She was reborn and unspoiled.

She lay still in a white dress that was damp with dew and clung to her tiny frame. She had no shoes, no purse, no history, no name. And she was beautiful: unruly black hair set above an angular, angelic face and perfect lips with the constant hint of a smile. She moved her fingers…testing…Her blood red eyes shot open and she scented the air around her.

Lying in the bracken, she was overcome with a series of disjointed memories that were startlingly clear, but entirely unfamiliar. In her mind, she stood before a trembling young woman and pulled back a green hood to reveal the woman's face and neck. Her eyes landed on a pulsing vein at the neck of the woman whose heavy breath was now warm on her face. In no time at all, her teeth had pierced the vein and she pulled blood into her throat until the woman trembled no more.

She had wept over the woman's body: heaving, tearless sobs that would never bring either of them back. She had no knowledge - no reference point for this memory – but she acknowledged that she had always been Godless with a strange lack of regret.

Her memories continued to flow through her at an alarming rate: blood and laughter and a cabin in the sunshine; a man in a doorway seeking shelter from the rain; a beautiful blonde woman…broken, but held so tenderly.

She remembered a man with topaz eyes looking at her like she owned his soul. A small smile played on his lips as he uttered one word like he was reciting the Gospel: "_Alice_." She saw herself touching his lips, trying to capture his breath with her fingertips and realized that she would give anything to remember this man; her past.

The wind shifted and she was gone. Wild and unfettered and blurring to the west...led by a scent that would surely consume her. The fire was back. She reached a woman and stilled before her. Pushing back a green hood, she sought out the origin of the scent and found it in the pulsing vein at the woman's neck. She felt warm breath on her face and thick, metallic blood flowed down her throat until the woman's heart stuttered and stopped.

Brought back to her senses, she looked down at the woman. Young and blonde and beautiful. Broken and drained and dead. As she wept, she held the body so tightly that bones cracked and shattered under her hands. A final indignity. She wept for this human and for herself. Kneeling on the ground, she looked up at the sky and muttered the first word of this new life: "_Alice_." She thought of the man with the topaz eyes and felt her soul settle. Because she knew now that he wasn't her past – he was her future.


	2. Chapter 2

**_******I do not own Twilight or any of its characters..I make no money from this...I do not intend any copyright infringement...etc...******_**

**BELIEF IN THE ABSENCE OF PROOF**

**CHAPTER 2: THE CHASE (November, 1920)**

Alice thundered through the forest, testing her strength, her speed, her endurance. It seemed that she could do anything but stop. She had tried to sit and watch the sun rise on the first dawn of this new life, but soon discovered that stopping only led to thinking and that would do her no good. She was alone and there were gaping holes in her knowledge that left her feeling frustrated and out of control.

When she allowed herself to think, the burning in her throat increased and she sought out the scent that could turn everything else into background noise. She had killed 4 people on the first day of this life: the woman with the green hood, a man checking traps at dusk and an elderly couple sitting side by side on the porch of a small house. When the old woman lay dead at her feet, Alice had looked at her husband and realized that she didn't even want him. She was too full – the blood of three people still heavy in her stomach. It was enough.

When she had made the decision to leave the old man, she had a vision of hooded figures chasing her and a sickening pain hit her before the vision abruptly stopped. And so she realized that you can't leave them – humans who have seen you – behind. It was probably a mercy to kill him. He was pressed into the corner of the porch, keeled over and clutching his chest. In the end she snapped his neck and carried them both deep into the woods; the stench of urine and illness that clung to him was unappetizing and, compared to the first that she had taken, he was unappealing.

When the moon was at its highest she had made her way into the small town in which she may or may not have made her home before the burning. It barely covered one block, with homesteads set amongst the looming forests that surrounded it on all sides. Sated from the blood that she had consumed, she had been able to stroll through the town with minimal discomfort - with the snores and whispers of the towns inhabitants to keep her company. Somehow she knew that she had once been like these people, but they seemed so weak: sleeping in their beds as a predator ambled by their windows.

She had wandered to the edge of the town where a timber sign declared: Welcome to the Town of Forks: Population 365. Alice picked up a jagged stone from the ground and crossed out 365, engraving 361 below. She thought again and crossed out the second number, writing 360 alongside it. She stared at the sign for a moment, feeling the now familiar loss of control. Deciding that she didn't want to amend the sign again so soon and fearing the hooded figures from her visions, she headed west once again.

So here she was, running and jumping and tearing her dress. Alice wondered what she would do with the time that she had to kill – and who knew how much of it there would be – until she finally met those that filled her mind. Her thoughts wondered back to the one with the golden eyes and she wondered how she would ever be so still or so calm again. But she knew that she could be whatever he needed her to be.

Since the burning had stopped, a running vision had constantly occupied a tiny corner of her mind, providing her with a preview of her life a few seconds in advance. It suddenly ceased and she stilled as a stomach-churning scent hit her. She spun and counted 4 enormous wolves surrounding her, holding the majority of their weight on their hind legs ready to pounce. She crouched down instinctively as they circled her and she barred her teeth, snarling in response to their low growls.

The largest wolf flew at her and she leapt, spinning in the air and kicking out her foot to connect with its jaw. She landed on a branch above and watched the wolf as he lay writhing on the ground below her, his jaw sitting at an unnatural angle. The three remaining wolves circled below her tree, growling and pawing the ground.

Alice had already tested her strength, speed and endurance with pleasing results. But she had also thrown herself into rock faces, tried to cut her arms using a knife pilfered from the trapper's body and – once relatively convinced of her resilience – she had even thrown herself from a cliff into the churning water below. None of these things had injured her in the slightest, but instinct told her that the creatures that now circled her could put an end to her life.

For a full 5 minutes, nobody moved except for the injured wolf below. Alice watched in fascination as his body shimmered and changed and pulled back into itself. On the ground lay a man, and while Alice knew little of the world she didn't think that this was how it usually worked. This change seemed to spur on the remaining three wolves who leapt and snapped at her perch, forcing her into action. She did not want to fight these creatures and instead she danced through the trees, touching the ground only when it was absolutely necessary – with two of the wolves snapping at her heels at every turn.

She soon out-danced them and was able to double-back and climb to the top of a giant cedar, watching them circle below before they ran back in the direction of the injured…man. Alice wondered which direction to head in. North led to more of the disconcerting nothingness that had overtaken her before the wolf-men had surrounded her, as did east and west. Alice decided to travel south and a vision unfolded before her: a cabin in the sun.


	3. Chapter 3

**_******I do not own Twilight or any of its characters..I make no money from this...I do not intend any copyright infringement...etc...******_**

**BELIEF IN THE ABSENCE OF PROOF**

**CHAPTER 3: THE MAKER (November, 1920)**

Charlotte watched her mate as he lay on his back in the dust, the sun warming him and reflecting off his skin in prisms. He had been there since dawn the previous day, a look of concentration on his face. Charlotte sat next to him, waiting for him to speak. She had loved this man since before the burning…

The first time she had seen a vampire was the summer of 1880 in Big Spring, Texas. She had woken early and taken a walk around the small settlement before dawn to avoid the heat. She was sure that somebody was following her, and sure enough when she turned around she had seen him: a 6 foot tall cowboy with light colored hair that probably needed to be trimmed. He was well muscled but not overly bulky – a man who had earned his physique through labor.

She had stood, unable to turn away from the man. She knew, logically, that she should be afraid, but she had wanted to walk to him and take his hand. In the pre-dawn light it was hard to be sure, but she would have sworn that his eyes were blood red. He had tilted his head like he was waiting for her to answer a question and she had nodded, not taking her eyes off him. She didn't know what the question was, but her answer was yes.

Two years later she had been just outside the town, walking back to the home that her family occupied when a man approached her asking for directions. He was 6'2'' with a mess of blonde hair, worn blue jeans and an old shirt and he was filthy, from the hat on his head to the boots on his feet. She vaguely registered the fact that beneath the dirt and the wear – or perhaps because of it - he was glorious.

The hairs on the back of her neck had stood on end as she turned to him: blood red eyes were locked on her from beneath the rim of his hat. She knew that this man was dangerous but something stopped her from running. She felt a foreign burst of confidence and asked the one question that she didn't want an answer to: "_What are you?_" He had smirked and replied: "_I'm your Maker._" And with that he had bitten into her neck, starting a wildfire that had scorched through her body and left her transformed.

When the burning had stopped she had opened her eyes, surprised to be alive. She was lying on a cot in a filthy shack. She could see and smell and hear everything. A small part of her brain wondered what had happened to her: Had she been kidnapped? Tortured? What was she now? But 99% of her brain was occupied with the man that sat before her. It was him. He stood slowly, head bowed and arms outstretched: submissive. Charlotte had risen in one graceful movement and stood opposite him, staring at him and breathing him in while this new primal voice within her screamed that there was too much distance between them. It was all she could do to stay still.

He tilted his head and she nodded, once again responding in the affirmative to a question that hadn't been asked. Somewhere in her mind she wondered whether she should stop doing that. He chuckled nervously before speaking to her for the first time: "_We are vampires. You will live forever, but you don't have to stay with me if you don't want to_." Charlotte made a decision and before she knew it, she was sitting astride him on the ground, having propelled them both through the wall of the shack. She leaned forward, her hair forming a curtain between them and a world that she wasn't even aware of and whispered the first thought that entered her mind: "_Forever won't be long enough, Cowboy_."

Charlotte smiled at the memory, not taking her eyes off the man who lay beside her. She had been by his side – or he had been by hers - ever since. They had fled that place when the blonde stranger had interrupted them hours later. Charlotte had pulled her body from her Cowboy, placing herself between the two men. She was wild and unaware of her nakedness until she thought back on the scene hours later. She stood between the two men, teeth barred and snarling, willing to fight this man if she had to. She felt a foreign sense of lethargy come over her and slumped to the ground. She heard the men talking around her _"What were you thinking, Jasper? She's only hours old."_ said her Cowboy. "_Run. She knows that you've found your mate and has issued orders to have her killed. Run now._" replied the stranger – Jasper. Her Cowboy argued with him "_she'll know it was you who brought her to me – they'll kill you as soon as they get the chance._" Jasper had laughed, but it was an empty sound with no joy.

Charlotte had awoken from her false sleep hours later as her Cowboy ran with her in his arms. "_What's your name, Cowboy?_" she had asked. "_Peter Whitlock_" he replied, before tilting his head. "_Charlotte Whitlock_" she said before closing her eyes again. She noticed an uneasy sensation that she now knew was a vampire's natural response to leaving their Maker in danger. She had lived with that feeling for 38 years in relation to a man who had spoken three words to her and then killed her: but she knew that everything that she now had was thanks to him, and was determined that he would find something to live for. She clung to the feeling of unease, because it meant that he was alive and that there was hope.

Peter still lay beside her, glowing and sparkling beneath the setting sun. The sun reflected unevenly off his body, the scars that littered his bare torso creating patterns and lines of shadow. He had gathered most of them in battles before she was born, but some were the result of the fights that seemed to have been waiting beyond every turn since they fled. He had protected her and defended her and loved her with this scarred body and she loved him desperately. She reached for his hand and raised it to her lips, kissing his palm and he finally spoke: "_Somebody is coming. She sees…she sees everything_."


	4. Chapter 4

**_******I do not own Twilight or any of its characters..I make no money from this...I do not intend any copyright infringement...etc...******_**

**BELIEF IN THE ABSENCE OF PROOF**

**CHAPTER 4: THE SEEKER (November, 1920)**

Peter turned to his mate who had sat silently beside him for 2 days, before finally rousing him with the touch of her lips on his palm. His gift was a little temperamental but the expanse of knowledge that had become apparent to him the previous morning had floored him.

He had known that she was coming – this woman who would change the course of their lives – but until 2 days ago, his knowledge of her had been arbitrary. Well, it was still pretty arbitrary but it was all going to happen and it was starting now. There would be six and together they would be powerful beyond measure. It was terrifying.

He hadn't intended to tell Charlotte, but the words poured from his mouth. He wondered whether she was using her gift on him, but realized that she hadn't spoken. He just needed to tell somebody what was happening and Peters 'somebody' was always Charlotte.

Peter opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. There were no words that could sum up what he knew. "_There will be six, all gifted. Aside from us we will have Jasper and the…seer. I don't know who the others are. The fifth is a Mind Reader and the sixth…I can't see her properly. I don't trust what I know_." Charlotte stared at him "_Tell me what you know_" He took a deep breath and said "_She is…everything. She will be the beginning and the end. Everything that we will become will depend on her. But I don't know how it ends..._"

They lay side by side under a canopy of stars, the weight of knowledge on their shoulders. "_Will we survive?_" asked Charlotte. Peter turned his head and looked into her eyes "_I wish I could lie to you_" he whispered. She remained silent, thinking the worst. "_I don't know. It all depends on her…The Sixth_" he finally replied.

Peter idly wished that Jasper was here to talk this through and to calm him, but he knew that he would have to keep the truth about The Sixth from the others for as long as he could. She would be tested and forged in fire before she came to them. There was no way around it, but the others would wage war on all of humanity before he let her future unfold as it should. And Peter had seen enough to know that would change everything. Ultimately, there were two possible outcomes – both would have been unimaginable only two days ago but only one was acceptable. The other would bring hell to earth.

He turned to Charlotte "_I need you to agree to something without asking questions. You can not ask me any more about The Sixth. Outcomes can still change...or be forced to change. There are things that shouldn't be known, or her destiny will be altered. She is dangerous. Do you understand?_" Charlotte looked at him and simply nodded. Peter wished that she could turn her gift off – that they could have conversations where he could flatter her and sugar-coat life.

Sometimes the truth should be kept quiet, hidden behind half-truths and blatant lies. Because - as Charlotte had realized - once you knew something there is no going back. As a newborn, she had grown easily frustrated and forced Peter into conversations that he did not want to have; forced him to speak the truth when it should have remained unspoken. She had asked him about the Southern Wars and about Jasper and Maria. He had tried – and failed - to give her answers that were the truth, but not the whole truth.

She had forced him to tell her about the women he'd had, the slaughter of whole human families that he had partaken in before he knew there was another way. She had forced him to tell her about his newborn year – the vampires that he'd been forced to torture and kill just so that it wouldn't happen to him. She asked about Jasper, and how Maria had broken him and what sort of man he was. Peter had told her that it wasn't his story to tell, but Charlotte had forced him to tell her the truth. And there was no taking it back.

Peter worried about the seer. What did she already know? Had she told anybody? He knew that if they headed north they would meet her and she would be bathed in light. He cursed the limitations of his gift – because while he knew that a vampire was coming who would change the course of civilization, he needed to meet somebody now and all he knew was that he would find her one day and she would be bathed in light. He knew this woman already – the fully formed familial love of a brother had wormed its way into his heart over the last 2 days. He knew that she was alone and terrified and needed him now.

Knowing that the seer would be aware of his plans, Peter made the decision to leave their home in the New Mexico desert in one month and travel to Phoenix. They would wait there for a month and then head due north until they found her.

Peter turned to Charlotte, seeing himself reflected in her ruby eyes. She was beautiful, this woman of his. He thought back to a morning 38 years earlier when Jasper had appeared before him, holding her in his arms. He had known that she was coming, but not like this: held by his maker, already changing. Jasper had grown tired of Peters uncertainty…his watching and waiting…and had gone out one morning and brought her to him. Charlotte he was the ultimate gift, but Peter had been afraid that when she awoke she would hate him. Instead she had leapt on him, crashing them both through the wall of the small shed where she had finally awoken. She had shown him that Jasper was right: you take what is meant to be yours.

"_What are you thinking about, Cowboy?"_ asked Charlotte, her eyes darkening. "_You know what I'm thinking about_" he answered truthfully, as he rolled over and pinned her to the dusty ground. His right hand held her arms above her head as he pressed the full length of his body into her, running his left hand down her throat and across the side of her right breast. He bent his head down to kiss her and she snarled beneath him and flipped them over, sitting astride him and grinding into his length. She reached for the bottom of her dress and pulled it over her head. Peter's eyes roamed across her naked body and he immediately pushed two fingers inside her, rubbing her clit with his thumb. He sat up and angled his head to her breast, taking one nipple in his mouth: sucking and licking until she came apart around his fingers.

He pushed her away from him and stood, unbuttoning his jeans as she sat on the ground looking up at him hungrily. His jeans fell to the ground and he kicked them off before dropping to his knees before her. She turned and knelt on all fours and he grabbed hold of her hips before thrusting into her roughly. Charlotte braced herself, pushing back into him as he pounded into her. Peter wrapped his hand around her long hair, pulling her until her back was pressed into him, and as their climax overtook them he bit into her neck as he had that first time 38 years ago. He had marked her here countless times over the years, but he imagined that he could still see Jaspers mark, deeper and more permanent than his.

Charlotte turned to look at him _"Do you wish…"_ Peter put a finger up to her mouth and she didn't finish the question that she had started to ask him every day for the past 38 years.


	5. Chapter 5

_********I do not own Twilight or any of its characters..I make no money from this...I do not intend any copyright infringement...etc...********_

**BELIEF IN THE ABSENCE OF PROOF**

**CHAPTER 5: THE CAMP (November - December, 1920)**

Alice continued to head south, through a forest of towering trees. The forest offered constant distractions: sights and scents would lead her off on day long tangents, but the thought of the cabin that she would find if she stayed on the right track would be bring her back to the strange reality that she now occupied.

As she zigzagged in a generally southerly direction, Alice came across the occasional clearing where sweating, tempting men worked together to bring down the large trees. Depending on the extent of the burning in her throat, she would either sit in the tree tops watching them or she would stalk them through the forest, picking off the stragglers and disposing of their drained bodies in a way that would not result in premonitions of the hooded figures and searing pain.

When running along the coast, Alice had taken to diving into the deep waters and swimming to the bottom. Once she broke the surface of the water, all of the sea creatures would disappear, sensing the predator in their midst. Surrounded by water and with her senses dulled, Alice was able to think more clearly. The humans that she hunted had a different reaction to her when compared to the less sophisticated animals. The men in particular seemed aware that she was a predator, but the scent of their fear was always tainted by excitement. Alice wondered what sort of creature would allow its instincts to grow so repressed that it would not run from death.

Alice found herself running to the east, moving through the trees like the wind and silencing the forest. Several hours later the towering forests had grown scrubby and the air had dried. She slowed to approach a clearing containing a make-shift campsite, where dozens of rugged men lay in tents and gathered around a raging campfire. Alice loitered in the tree line, waiting for one of the men to separate from the group so that she could satisfy her burning throat.

She watched the men - some were barely past childhood and others more closely resembled the man whose neck she had snapped on his porch. As she observed them, a young man picked himself up from the fireside and staggered in an arc towards the tree line. Alice maneuvered and waited for him in the shadows. She had underestimated the man's eyesight, because he stilled some distance from the tree line and stared at her.

Alice watched, rooted to the spot, as his pupils dilated and his scent changed subtly. The steady thud of his heart increased and the scent of his excitement wafted toward her. As he ran his eyes down her body, Alice looked down and noticed that her dress was torn and hanging from her body, revealing more than it covered.

"_Boys, come and see what I've found"_ he shouted to the other men, his eyes never leaving her body. Alice knew what would happen next and took one last breath before imploring _"No, don't do it."_ The young man gestured to his friends, who started walking towards her. He stepped forward, undoing his belt as he moved. He reached forward and grabbed her arm, silently warring with his instinct to run - forcing his lust to overcome his fear at the unnatural feel of her skin.

Alice drew back into the tree line, but he followed. He lifted his hand and struck her face, his terror finally winning out as his hand shattered against her cheekbone. _"What are you?"_ he asked, his voice high pitched and wavering. Alice smirked at him: _"I'm not what you thought I was"_ she said, using the last of her oxygen. As she took another breath, Alice smelt the blood that was coating his palm and all rational thought stopped.

The man lay drained in the tree line and Alice became vaguely aware of the shrieking and running of the other men in the clearing. Within minutes the ground was heavy with blood that pooled and glistened like oil in the moonlight. Alice stood motionless in the clearing, listening to the three remaining heartbeats. She followed the sound and found two of the men huddled in a tent. One was hysterical and she snapped his neck quickly, never taking her eyes off the second man; he was folded up, touching his forehead, chest and shoulders in rapid succession with his right hand while staring at sketch of a woman that he held in his left hand. Alice briefly wondered who the woman was, but the man was dead before she could finish the thought.

For the first time in this life, Alice was no longer thirsty. The blood of a dozen men threatened to work its way back up her throat and the blood of a dozen more coated her body and dripped from her fingers. She sought out the remaining man. Following his rapid heartbeat, Alice found him standing on a cliff edge – he had gone as far as he could.

The man was still as Alice stopped a few arms-lengths from him. His eyes darted about wildly as he looked for a means of escape. _"You can't run from me."_ Alice stated bluntly, chuckling at the absurdity of the idea. The man turned his head to look over his shoulder. A wide river had carved a deep rut in the land and it was apparent to both of them that this was not an effective means of escape. Alice stood motionless, her head cocked to one side as she observed the man. The blood that coated her body was starting to dry, cracking and flaking from her skin. She watched as a look of resignation came over him a second before he threw himself backwards, his body bouncing from the jagged cliffs that lined the river.

Alice again wondered about these creatures, whose sense of self preservation and fighting instinct was so lacking when compared to her own. The last man had given up on his life and had willingly stepped into a void. Alice wondered what to make of this and was surprised to realize that she had a grudging respect for this man: he had attempted to escape and got further than the others, he weighed his options when cornered and determined a way out on his terms.

Back at the camp, Alice arranged the torn bodies in the tents and covered them in blankets and bracken before setting fire to every flammable material. She stood on the tree line once again, ensuring that the entire camp was up in flames before walking back to the cliff and climbing down to the body of the last man.

Alice used her hands to dig a hole at the riverside before placing his body into the crude grave. Standing over him, Alice felt the need to say something to commemorate this man who she had terrified in his last moments. _"You were brave"_ she said, without knowing why she bothered to say anything. She saw a signet ring gleaming on the mans little finger and bent down to retrieve it before covering his body with dirt and a pile of rocks.

Alice held the ring in her left fist, wishing that she could gain some sense of perspective over what had just happened. She had killed over two dozen men before the red haze had cleared from her vision. Despite the weakness of these creatures she knew that this was too much - the death of so many was a sadness that should not be repeated.

Her fist tightened around the ring as Alice ran south east as fast as her legs would carry her, resuming the journey that would see her visions become a reality. As she ran, Alice saw herself sitting in a dark cavern, her skin shimmering in the beam of light that lit her from overhead. A man knelt in front of her, red eyes searching her own, hand outstretched toward her.

Alice held her breath and ran for days, not stopping until she stood at the opening of a narrow canyon. Walking through the darkness, she reached a beam of light that illuminated a small corner of the space. She sat on the sandy ground and waited…


	6. Chapter 6

_**Hi Kids - sorry for the delay in updating! I've had a really shitty few weeks but it was nice to finally escape my world for half an hour to write a bit of vampirey stuff :)**_

_********I do not own Twilight or any of its characters..I make no money from this...I do not intend any copyright infringement...etc...********_

**BELIEF IN THE ABSENCE OF PROOF**

**CHAPTER 6: THE CANYON (April, 1923)**

Peter ran through the desert, zigzagging across vast areas as he had done every day for 2 years. Charlotte had accompanied him on-and-off, sometimes returning home to check whether Jasper had come to find them. She had been gone for 2 weeks this time, and he felt her drawing him south like a magnet.

His gift had told him that he would not find the seer for a long time, but he knew that he needed to search regardless. He had followed every vampire scent that he came across whether they were familiar or not, but none of the covens had any news on the tiny female that he was seeking.

On his travels, Peter had met a number of relatively new vampires who had left the southern covens that had forged himself and Jasper – there was no news of Maria and queries after Jasper were always met with blank looks. The first group of vampires that Peter had encountered told him that the southern covens had been decimated some 40 years earlier and their leaders were either dead or scattered to the four corners of the globe. The formerly warring groups now functioned as one coven that no longer sought out new territory, but when challenged they would fight to retain their existing territory.

Peters still heart clenched with fear for Jasper – it was only the vague knowledge of his makers continued existence that allowed Peter to continue looking for the seer. As it was, he was torn between three vampires: his mate, the seer and his maker – all entirely unrelated, but tied to him by the silvery thread of venom and love and a future. Earlier that day, Peter had met three travelers from the southern coven who spoke of the enigmatic, scarred leader that they willingly served and returned to after brief sabbaticals in the north. It seemed that this new leader – The Major – had never lost a fight.

As Peter ran, he thought back to his years with Jasper – Jasper had changed him in 1866, when he was barely past his newborn year himself. At the end of the Civil War, Peter had found himself wondering from county to county. He could no longer settle; he had seen death, but then he knew that thousands of other men had seen just as much and been able to settle back into their old life. He supposed that the greatest issue wasn't that he had seen death; it was that he had seen it coming. He had known from that first day who would make it through and who wouldn't; who would win and who would lose.

On the night of his change Peter had sat slouched against a wall under a glowing moon, his eyes were suddenly drawn to a pair of feet in worn boots that stopped a few feet from his prone form. He hadn't heard the man approach, but he wasn't surprised because this was another thing that he had seen coming. He looked up, his brown eyes catching red and holding them. "_You're finally here, brother._" Peter said, as the man held out his hand to help him off the ground.

His mind returning to the here and now, Peter realized that it was time to hunt. He knew he was close and had been ignoring his thirst, focusing only on his desperate need to find the seer and bring her home to Charlotte. He waited on the outskirts of a small desert town before slinking through the roughly packed dirt roads under the cover of darkness. He waited at the rear of the local brothel listening to the grunts and thundering heartbeats within. As the first glimmers of sunrise touched the sky, a man staggered out reeking of alcohol and sweat and sex. Peter slipped up behind him and snapped his neck before draining his body of blood. With the body thrown over his back, Peter ran toward the horizon.

As he buried the remnants of his meal in a shallow grave, Peter suddenly knew where he should go: a third pull formed in his body, urging him North East. Peter ran like he never had before – he hadn't realized that he'd been heeding the inescapable pull toward Charlotte and had ventured much further south than he intended. Peter ran through the desert, avoiding towns and maintaining a speed that would leave him virtually invisible to the human eye: a cloud of dust the only evidence of his presence. He ran through any obstacle that got in his way, refusing to deviate from the path that would lead him to the seer – as if one false move would break the thread of awareness that currently linked them. Logically, Peter knew that once these links were forged they were permanent and unbreakable, but he was running on instinct and the usually appealing call of logic was lost on him as he flung himself through rivers and scrambled up sheer cliff faces.

Stopping in the middle of a dry riverbed, Peter noted a narrow opening in the rock that rose up in front of him. The opening was barely wide enough for him to fit through and he turned sideways to squeeze through, before looking around him at the smooth, high walls that rose on either side of him. The pathway wound through the solid rock and breaks in the ceiling allowed seemingly solid beams of light from the midday sun to touch the sandy ground. The pull was growing stronger and beyond a curve in the path Peter found what he had been searching for. A brilliant beam of sunlight lit up a section of the stone walled cavern and in it sat a tiny, starving vampire whose skin shone so brightly that the sunlight appeared dim in comparison.

Peter fell to his knees and crawled toward the unmoving woman: he stopped before her, searching her face for some glimmer of awareness before holding out his hand for her to take. She lifted her head and took him in with her jet black eyes. "_You kept me waiting for a long time, brother._" she said, before placing a ring in his palm and closing his fingers around it.

_**Alice is at Antelope Canyon, which I visited last year - I've been to lots of places and it's truly the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. You should google it!**_


End file.
